


Hands of the Enemy

by Groot_the_tree



Series: Whumptober 2020 [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Dammit Jim, Dark John Watson, Dark Mycroft Holmes, Dark Sherlock Holmes, Innocent Richard Brook, M/M, Minor Sebastian Moran/Jim Moriarty, Minor Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Poor Sebastian, Post-The Final Problem, Revenge, Richard Brook was REAL, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:27:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26772913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Groot_the_tree/pseuds/Groot_the_tree
Summary: John, Mycroft, and Sherlock decide to get revenge on Moriarty after The Final Problem.
Relationships: Sebastian Moran/Jim Moriarty
Series: Whumptober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948387
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	Hands of the Enemy

**Author's Note:**

> Day two of whumptober   
> IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY “Pick Who Dies” | Collars | Kidnapped

Jim should have seen this coming, he really should have. But, in all fairness, he didn’t think they had it in them. Who would have guessed that the good guys could turn out so bad? He would have been proud of them if he wasn’t so sure he knew what’s coming.

It was months after The Final Problem, as he and Eurus had decided to call it and he has found himself in a strange but familiar situation, along with his brother, Richard, and sniper, Sebastian.

They stand staring at each other but not meeting each other’s eyes, none wanting to break the silence, none knowing what to say. The tension was thick and worrying about where they were. Jim knew why this was happening. The other two were completely in the dark but doubted it would be for long, as much as he would like to keep it that way.

They were in a block room like the ones that were used for the game with a screen in the corner showing the faces of John Watson and the Holmes brothers. 

After a moment of silence, Sherlock spoke up. “We considered putting you three through the same series of tests that you, Moriarty, along with my sister, put us through but we decided that would be too cruel. There is a gun in front of you, you remember the last test, right? Get on with it.” 

Jim looks to the gun, then to the camera in the room. “If that’s what this is about then why not put me and her in a room together and make us fight to the death or something?” Jim asks, annoyed. 

“She is past learning right from wrong,” Mycroft responds, “I do not believe that you are, James. This is our attempt to teach you something, are you willing to learn?”

“And you are me, remember?” Sherlock asks, “Your brother represents Mycroft and Moran is there to stand in for John. I did think you would be able to keep up with this. Or, perhaps, you just don’t want to see the obvious?” He suggests. 

“I think you are dragging innocent people into this. This was between us and your sister, Sherlock, Moran, and Richard are innocent lives in this.” Jim doesn’t bother to answer either of the questions he was asked, what was the point?  
John laughs, getting Moriarty’s head to turn to the screen, fire in his black, dead eyes. “Moran is far from innocent in any situation.” 

“He wasn’t involved in this plan. Let them go, do what you will with me.” Jim orders, not going to give in and just accept this, not yet. 

“You know it won’t work that way, Moriarty.” Sherlock reminds him, watching with something close to amusement. “You know what you have to do to get out of there. Kill one, choose who dies, choose who lives.” 

Jim looks at the screen, his mind already made up with what he’s going to do and he hates it. He hates that he’s going to be so predictable. But the options were between his twin brother who he loves and understands so thoroughly and his partner, his bodyguard, his right-hand man. There was really only one option of who could die and no use in trying to deny it. He was going to do what he has to do, he just hopes they can both understand his decision.

“Jim,” Sebastian says, softly, a knowing look on his face as though he knows what’s going through Jim’s mind. The man himself is sure he doesn’t. How could anyone?

“Not now, Seb,” He whispers, looking at the gun in his hand, adjusting his grip and thinking about how wrong it feels there. They have always fitted Sebastian so much better. And Jim knows he’s a terrible shot. 

“You know I hate being the one to get my hands dirty.” He announces louder to the other three, rather than the ones in the room. 

“But that isn’t exactly true, is it?” Mycroft asks, watching them, knowing the man better than that, he’s seen too much since he started watching him, Jim knows that. He hasn’t cared about it until now.

“It is, I don’t like to kill. I don’t like to be the one pulling the trigger.” He elaborates. 

“Get on with it, Moriarty,” Sherlock says, impatiently, clearly annoyed by the back and forth and failed attempts of getting out of this.

“Jimmy,” Richard says, his voice soft, scared, the one voice that could absolutely break Jim. Anyone else he didn’t care about or knew they could sort it out on their own. Sebastian could take care of himself, but could Richard? Jim has always been there to help him and care for him. He was sure his twin brother is more capable than he is giving him credit for but he couldn’t help but worry all the same.

“I’m sorry, Richie. I’ve always tried to keep you as far away from my work as I could and you still were pulled into it. This is the last time.” He whispers and, for a moment, everyone in both rooms looked to Jim in horror, all thinking they had judged wrong. Everyone but Richard who looked resigned. He gives a nod, as though understanding what his brother was thinking as he takes a step closer to Sebastian. Jim thinks that Richard knows immediately. 

Jim pushes down the tears he feels in his eyes and manages to turn off his emotions like flipping a switch as he slowly raises his hand, the gun pointing to himself. “Remind you of anyone, Sherlock?” He asks, the light twist to his voice gone, now sounding more like he’s already pulled the trigger. “You’ve found the two people in the world that I would never dare hurt, wouldn’t dream of killing and asked me to do the impossible. Well, I hope this is what you were wanting. Don’t want to disappoint.” 

And with that, he pulled the trigger.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are nice, even if I'm not.


End file.
